Jump Then Fall
by CreativeLoven
Summary: Post Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life. This was not what Rory had envisioned her life to be at thirty-three - living at home, and pregnant without the father of her unborn child by her side. After learning to embrace regrets, cope with losses, and cherish those who love her without fear, can she finally piece her life back together?
1. Chapter One: Hello?

❤ Chapter One ❤

"Happy birthday, little girl." A hushed, singsong tone drifted into my ear, just as I was about to fall asleep.

I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the figure towering over my bed.

"Hey, mom," I whispered, as I scooted to the edge of my twin-sized bed, making space for the both of us.

My mom loved this birthday ritual where she would tell me the story of my birth, down to every last excruciating detail. I had listened to this same story every year until I started at Yale, when the chance to spend the eve of my birthday together became increasingly rare.

With my mom squeezed beside me, I put my arms around her, and nuzzled my cheek into the cradle of her neck. It felt like we were twenty years younger. In the dim light, I couldn't tell the tiny wrinkles around my mother's eyes that I knew was there. I remembered my own eyes, and the faint lines that would appear along the corners whenever I smiled into a mirror.

"I'm certainly not a little girl anymore." I smirked, almost sad at the realization.

"Nonsense, you came out of me. You'll forever be little in my eyes." My mom placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "I can't believe how fast you grew up. And, now, there's something growing inside of you."

"Yeah, you were right, life does go by fast." I nodded, and sighed at the string of memories that played like a silent movie before my eyes.

I remembered the first time I met my childhood friend, Lane. My first day at Chilton. My first Europe trip with my mom. And, now, I'm experiencing what's probably one of the most terrifying firsts a woman could – pregnancy. Instinctively, I held my stomach, which was mostly flat, thanks to my mother's genes that encode for freakishly high metabolism, despite the amount of junk food we ate, and the fact that I was only a few weeks along.

My mom started, "It's hard to believe that at exactly this time many moons ago, I was lying in exactly the same position- "

"Oh boy," I chuckled lightly. "Here we go."

"Shh..." My mom put a finger to my lips. "This time I gonna recite the whole story in its glorious entirety without any interruptions, because its _that_ good."

"Recite away, " I mumbled into her finger, while cracking a smile.

And so my mom went on about her fat stomach and fat ankles, but all I could think about was how ironic it was that I was back in this bed on my thirty-third birthday. If my sixteen-year-old self was given ten scenarios for what my life could be like at thirty-three, temporarily living at home after being impregnated by my ex-boyfriend, who I'm secretly still in love with, but has a fiancée of his own, was most certainly not what I would have pictured. Ever since the pregnancy test showed me the incredulous result, I finally understood that even I, Rory Gilmore, the girl who planned every minutiae detail of her life with a pro-con list, could not escape the mystical ability of life to trip you up. I suppose I knew that ever since I met Logan Huntzberger, my life would never be as simple and straightforward as it had been. For him, I broke the rules. I even stole a yacht for crying out loud. So it was really no surprise that the logical side of my brain seem to be of no use whenever he was around. I had loved him in my youth, like a first love, crazy love, and unrestrained love. Yet, love never seemed to be enough, as I would go on to turn down his proposal and, in turn, abandon the rose-colored promise of what could be a passionate, adventured-filled life together.

Looking back, knowing how it all turned out, I still couldn't say that I regretted my decision. For it was that decision that opened a hundred doors. I'd wanted independence, which I got in the years to come. However, I would be lying if I said I hadn't been broken for a long while. Even amidst the exhilarating experience of being a journalist on the Obama campaign, my feelings for Logan never really vanished. Which was why it was so terribly hard to resist the electricity between us when we met again, three years ago. We were standing in a room full of people, I was stuffing my face with delicious apple tarts, as lady-like as possible, when Logan came up to me. He walked right up to me, and said "Hey, Ace", like no time had passed between us. The confidence he exuded was exactly one of the things I had loved and missed so much. The truth is, no matter how long it had been since I saw Logan, he would always feel like home. Like we belonged together. It may sound entitled, presumptuous even, but I knew he felt the same way.

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

The memory of that night, the night that started the friends-with-benefits arrangement between us, filled my heart with a small sorrow. If there was any moment I could change in my life, perhaps it would be the moment where we were lying in bed, holding onto each other's naked body.

 _Logan had asked, almost nonchalantly, "Ace, do you ever wonder what it would have been like if we settled down all those years ago?"_

" _Mmm…" I mumbled with my eyes closed, while shuffling into his torso just a bit more. Sleepily, I said without thinking, "Yeah, I've had nightmares about it, where our marriage never turns out well."_

 _His body tensed beside mine. "What do you mean? Did I one day forget to feed you coffee on an hourly basis, and suffered unfathomable consequences afterward?" He chuckled, a bit too forcefully._

 _My cheeks flushed at the realization of what I had revealed. "Oh, it's nothing. I mean, we were so young. I wasn't ready for marriage."_

 _I couldn't look at him. I couldn't understand why the idea of marriage was so hard for me to grasp. Maybe it was because I never had the best example of marriages growing up. Look at what happened whenever my mom was engaged or married to a guy, it just never ends well. Her and Luke only managed to maintain a long, stable relationship when they had given up on the idea of marriage. They had been together for 6 years now, with no mention of marriage that I know of._

" _We're not so young anymore." Logan brushed a stray hair out of my face, and caught my gaze._

" _Thanks," I said, sarcastically._

 _He smirked. "I mean, come on, Ace. Don't tell me you haven't been thinking of me all these years, cause I sure haven't been able to get you out of my head. When I saw you today, I saw the way you looked at me. Nothing has changed." He sighed, as if exasperated with my stubbornness. "What do you say we give it another shot?" He asked the question with his eyes intently on me. They spoke a language I couldn't quite understand._

 _His face, however, was so full of hope that my heart swelled. Logan had always been good with the grand words and gestures, and I had always been unable to resist them. But in that moment, I found myself uncertain about jumping into a relationship with this man. He was right, nothing had changed. Yet, what we once had seemed so out of reach. Lost._

" _Logan… I don't know…" I started, "I didn't think this through when we got into bed together. If we start a relationship, it would be something serious right away, because it's_ us _."_

" _I'm alright with that. Aren't you?"_

" _I- I- I don't know." My next words were caught in my throat. I was hurt badly by our last break up. I didn't know if I could handle it if our relationship fell through again._

 _Logan took my hand into his, and kissed my knuckles ever so gently. He looked at me with unwavering eyes, and softly said, "Okay, Ace. You don't have to decide now."_

 _I bit my lip, trying to appear unfazed by those words that held so much care, trying to hide my insecurities. "But, we can still see each other like this?" The thought of not having him in my life was unpleasant, painful even._

 _A heartfelt grin spread across his lips as he replied, "Just like this."_

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

And that was how I unknowingly started a no-strings-attached arrangement with Logan once again. I knew that parts of me still loved him, but time had molded that love into a subdued pain. I felt it once in a while, whenever our eyes locked, whenever we said goodbye. Whenever I pictured him with someone else. If I hadn't been so scared of failure, and had agreed to give our relationship another chance, perhaps Logan and I could be happily married now, with our first baby on the way. Instead I was here in my childhood bed, spooning with my mother.

I glanced at my mom, and saw that she had drifted off into a serene sleep. Carefully, I got out of bed and made my way into the kitchen. Pulling out my phone, I twirled it in my hands before finally gathering enough courage to dial Logan's number. We had said goodbye in New Hampshire a while back, but I think we both knew that with us, it was never really goodbye. I wasn't planning on telling him about my pregnancy just yet, but I wanted so badly to hear his voice. After all, we had known each other for thirteen years, I reasoned. I wanted him to be one of the firsts to wish me a happy birthday.

Three rings resonated in my ear, before I heard the voice.

"Hello?" A female voice laced with a thick French accent came through the phone.

Nausea abruptly made its way down my stomach. I sat frozen in my spot, with my brain piecing together enough information to understand that it must be the voice of Odette, Logan's fiancée. At the realization, a pain went through me, so sharply that I had to hold my breath.

"My gorgeous fiancée is just about to step into the shower, so I will have to take a message." The woman continued with palpable humor in her tone, but I didn't find any of it funny.

Before I could hang up, I heard Logan's voice from afar. "Are you answering my phone? What if it's work?" Then, to my shock, I heard Logan chuckle just as Odette giggled, "Relax, it said it's an unknown caller. It's probably just some advertisement."

My felt my face turn scarlet at the sound of their unified amusement, like I had become a joke.

"Hello? Logan Huntzberger speaking." Logan finally picked up the phone.

My heart stopped at the sound of his voice, so familiar, yet now completely foreign. A fiery burn pierced through my eyes, causing me to squeeze them shut. I felt the tickle of a tear sliding down my cheek, and hastily hung up the phone. With my head in my hands, I tried to stable my breaths, and not make a sound. Realizing that I was shaking, I wrapped my arms around my body. Every tremor running through me was a reminder of what I had lost. I held in all processes going on in me, until it caused physical pain. Quickly putting my hand over my mouth, I stifled a cry before a wall broke loose, and tears flooded my eyes. Of course, Logan was someone else's now. Unlike all the books I had memorized, I could never retain the fact that Logan was now an engaged man. I was fooling myself into thinking he would always be mine. In my moments of indecision, someone else had come along, and taken him away.

That night, sitting shattered at my kitchen table, all I could think of was my night with Logan from three years ago. In my mind, images continued on replay, until I finally understood what Logan's eyes were telling me when he had asked for a second chance. There are some things in life you didn't get a second, or third chance in. Once you let it slip, it's just gone. What was once a beautiful possibility, is now an ugly regret. The feelings that hurt the most, the thoughts that sting the most, are those that long for what could have been, what would have been, if only you had the courage to never give it up.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and I would love to hear your thoughts!**

SPOILERS FOR GILMORE GIRLS REVIVAL BELOW: Please DO NOT read on if you don't want to know what happens! Wait, actually, you shouldn't be reading this story if you don't want to know what happens in the revival.

So, I'm back to writing for Rogan after what I found to be a disappointing revival. :( To be honest, I really hated what they did with Rory and Logan's relationship, making them cheat on their significant others with each other, as if they were never even in a serious, long term relationship. I feel like this was just completely out of character, and such an insult to the beautiful relationship that Rory and Logan shared in the TV series! Okay, you can probably tell I'm a bit worked up, but I have come to terms with the revival, as long as I can write my own story of what happens afterward. I want to also try to give some background and explanations as to how Rory and Logan got stuck in a friends-with-benefits arrangement... (still so unbelievable to me, but that's the material I've got to work with, unfortunately.)

Other than the Rory and Logan plot, I thought Luke and Loreila's story was pretty good! Anyway, that's just my thought on the revival, what about yours? Did you enjoy the revival? Did you hate it? Also, any thoughts and comments about this chapter would be much appreciated! Thanks for reading, as always!


	2. Chapter Two: Regrets

❤ Chapter Two ❤

"Oh my god!" I halted my steps as soon as I walked into the room, speechless at the sight before me. The walls of the party room at the newly renovated Dragon Fly Inn were covered with blown-up pictures of me, ranging from me in diapers to recent ones with my mom. The size of these pictures put my grandma's humongous portrait of my grandfather to shame.

"Surprise!" All the familiar faces in the room shouted back, beaming with pride at what they had done with the décor. "Happy Birthday, Rory!"

"My face…" I muttered, still in disbelief. "It's everywhere!"

"Oh, honey, with a face like yours, you've got to flaunt it." Ms. Patty rushed to my side and led me by the arm toward the center of the room. "By the way, welcome back, Rory."

My smile froze ever so slightly. "Oh, no, I'm not _back_." Eager to correct any form of misunderstanding. It was not like I was some failed journalist in her thirties, who had to move back home because she was knocked up and broke. Not entirely, anyway.

"Trust me, show off that face before it gets leathery and droopy like mine." Babette chimed in, before pulling me in for a big hug. "Welcome back, Darling."

"Ha, Babette. Again, I'm not _back_ ," I repeated, almost annoyed.

The room was packed, as if everyone in the little town of Stars Hollows were squished into the modestly sized banquet hall. When I got closer, I saw that the townspeople were all wearing pointy party hats, with my face on it. As they swamped in to greet me, I felt like I was being attacked by mini versions of myself as the hats got closer and closer. I couldn't help but laugh at the surreal feeling of being home in my quirky town, _temporarily_.

"Oh Rory! I can't believe you're no longer a smelly baby," exclaimed Mia as she squeezed me into a long hug.

"Aw Mia, you came!" I beamed at her. She was like a surrogate grandmother to me, and one of my most beloved figures growing up.

"Of course I came. It's been so long since you celebrated your birthday in Stars Hollows." The corner of her eyes crinkled as she gave me a motherly smile.

"Which is why we had to throw you the biggest bash you can imagine!" Sookie ran out of the kitchen, carrying a huge plate of appetizers. "Here, try this! My new concoction using only the freshest blueberries, and whip cream. Although, I asked for _strawberries_ , but Jackson here-"

"It wasn't my fault! A giant raccoon attacked me at the strawberry patch!" Jackson emerged from the kitchen, trailing exasperatedly behind Sookie. "You should just be glad that your husband made it out with minor scratches."

I chuckled and grabbed a piece of the blueberry goodness, while giving Sookie a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Sookie and Jackson. I'm sure it tastes divine." I looked around the room, impressed by the turn out. "Where's my mom?"

"She'll be here soon." Sookie gave a sly grin. "She said she's sorry for running late, but there was a tiny detail she had to attend to."

"Oh boy…" I snickered, afraid to ask what kind of mischief my mother may be getting into this time.

"Welcome back, Rory," Kirk's voice boomed from behind me, causing me to spin around.

"Thanks, wait, no, I mean, I'm not _back,_ " I quickly corrected myself.

Why was everyone acting like I had moved back home?! Half of my stuff wasn't even in my mom's house. I quickly rid myself of that thought when I remembered that some of my stuff were at Logan's. I wondered what he did with them, now that Odette had moved in. As if on cue, at the thought of Logan and Odette, my heart gave a sharp ache.

Hastily I turned to Kirk, and asked with forced excitement, "So! Where are the drinks?!"

"Funny you should ask, because I am in charge of drinks tonight. It's my new business, actually-"

"Right, Kirk, just lead me to the booze." I cut him off with waning patience. I was suddenly in no mood to listen to Kirk's over-the-top business ventures that seemed to change weekly.

As soon as I got to the large rectangular table donned with a tablecloth with my face on it and all kinds of alcohol, I remembered I _couldn't_ drink. I was pregnant. It was hard to remember sometimes, since I didn't have many symptoms, a protruding belly, nor an expecting father by my side. I had hoped to soothe the throbbing headache that would inevitably come whenever I thought of Logan with alcohol. Now I was at a loss. Kirk awkwardly poured me a glass of wine, in a deliberately slow fashion, as if to tell me that he did not appreciate not being able to finish his story. I took the glass from him in silence, and gave him a tight smile. After he turned his back to make his way into the crowd, I placed the glass back on the table.

"Happy Birthday, Rory." A thick French accent came to my ears.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the sound. I probably would have combusted into flames if it was a female voice. I had little tolerance for French accents these days. Turning around, I saw Michel, and instantly relaxed.

"Hey, Michel."

"I just wanted you to know that I was dragged here by that horrible mother of yours." He gave me a stern look, before holding out a small gift bag. "This is for you."

"Oh, thank you," I said saccharinely. Only Michel could come off as insufferable and oddly sweet at the same time.

"Open it," he instructed, then adding with a boyish glint in his eyes. "I'm too excited to wait."

"Oh," I couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden change in tone. "So eager."

Neatly, I peeled at the tape around the little flat square that was wrapped in a mint green paper. Before I could get a corner open, Michel ripped the gift out of my hands.

"Oh my goodness, what are you turning? Eighty-five?" He then gave me a sarcastic smile. "Here, I do for you." Ripping the paper apart, he shoved the unveiled gift at me. "Ta-da! A Celine Dion CD!"

"Oh wowww, thanks Michel." I feigned great interest in the gift, while trying to hold back a laugh.

"Happyyy birthdayyy to youuu," my mother's singsong voice came from the corner of the room, just as everyone joined in the song. "Happyyy birthdayyy dear Rory…"

I turned around and saw my mom walking toward me with a huge smile on her face. At the sight, I felt my muscles relax, and my nerves gradually vanish. Smiling back, I looked at the cake she was holding, only to let out a half snort, half laugh. The cake was in the shape of a sculpture, like those you find in art museums. Except it wasn't some masterpiece sculpted by Michelangelo or Picasso. It was a freaking 3D sculpture of my head, right down to my shoulders and every lock of brown hair that was flowing down my back. For the second time that night, I was speechless. Only in Stars Hollows, and only my mother, can pull off a birthday party like this. Indescribable. My heart was filled with love for the big family surrounding me. The resentment I had felt whenever someone welcomed me back was subdued, if only for a little while.

"Oh my gosh. Thanks, Mom!" I gave her the biggest kiss on the cheek I could muster, and jumped into her arms as soon as she placed the cake on the table.

"You're welcome, kid." She beamed at me.

"Where? How? How on Earth were you able to make this cake?!" I asked incredulously.

"It was all my idea, but Luke was the one calling every bakery within 100 miles to find someone, anyone, who could bring my crazy genius creation to life," she explained proudly.

Only then did I notice that Luke was right behind her. Feeling the buzz from the excitement, I ran into Luke's arms and gave him a tight hug, catching him by surprise. "Thanks, Luke!"

"No problem," he mumbled shyly, while wearing a small smile.

In that moment, along with many others over the years, I felt something fatherly about him. Suddenly, I felt sad that he and my mom didn't have kids of their own. They would have made such great parents together. Some things in life just seemed so right, so meant to be, yet can never be realized. The thought drifted into my mind like the ending credits of a sad movie. It lingered there, until it wiped away any happiness I had felt prior.

"Speech, Rory!" Taylor shouted, along with the rest of the townspeople.

Startled out of my reverie, I stuttered, "I- I- I don't know what to say. This is incredible…"

I was frankly in no state to make a heartfelt speech about my life and thirty-third birthday, spent pregnant and heartbroken, without reducing to tears. I knew I should be more grateful, but the sound of Logan and Odette's laughter from last night rang in my ears anytime I tried to smile.

"Are you all moved in at Loreila's?" A voice from the crowd said, "We can help you get your stuff."

"Are you jobless?"

"You can work at my mother's convenience store just down the street from Doose's Market."

"Woah, woah, people," my mother thankfully interjected. "While I'm sure Rory is very thankful for your kind gestures, she's _fine_."

The word "fine" stuck around in my brain, long after my mom had finished her sentence. Everyone was talking over each other now, asking what she meant by fine, and insisting on helping me get through this "rough patch in my life". I drowned the commotions out and stood motionlessly, watching life unfold. _This_ was my thirty-third birthday. I couldn't help but think that my sixteen-year-old self would have thought I would be celebrating in somewhere exotic, among accomplished journalists. Or maybe with a little family of my own, with my loving husband's arm wrapped tightly behind my back. Or maybe even just a goddamn proposal, after finding out I was pregnant with our much anticipated first child. But, no. On my thirty-third birthday, everyone in the very town I'd grown up in was assuming that I was broken and alone. And the worst part was? I think they may be right.

"Stop!" I yelled into the chaos, and the whole room grew quiet.

Startled by the silence, and with everyone's eyes on me, I let out a slow breath and spoke, "Look, I get your concern, but I'm okay…"

"Oh, honey…" my mom touched my arm, "You really don't have to give a speech-"

"It's fine, Mom," I interjected with a bit more hostility than I'd meant for.

I looked around the room, at each familiar person who was hoping to hear an explanation for where my life was headed. I could see the hope they carried for what was once their poster child, the girl with the perfect temper, perfect grades, who went to Yale, and toured the nation alongside Obama. Their hope for me was too much to bear. Unable to face their expectations and my embarrassment, I settled for anger instead. It formed a ball in my stomach, slowly, but surely, making its way up my throat until I was trembling. I couldn't feel my body, or control my thoughts.

Fast words fled my mouth, "I would _greatly_ appreciate it if everyone would just stop welcoming me back, as if I was back for good. My stuff isn't even unpacked at my mom's house!" I heard my voice resonate into the silent room, with each word higher pitched than the last. "Seriously, people! I know you basically all watched me grow up, and are highly interested in my life, especially you Babette," I glanced at her shock-stricken face, knowing she lived for these kind of gossip.

Barely giving myself a chance to catch my breath, I continued my tirade, "All I ask is some room to breathe. Especially when I'm going through crap like, like, another article falling through, a goddamn relationship that barely counts as a relationship, and getting knocked up with no idea how to tell the father about it, because he's _engaged to be married_." I saw the horrified looks around me, and continued, "Yeah, that's right!" I gestured around the room, my voice now verging on hysterical. "Your _perfect_ Rory is pregnant with a baby whose father is engaged to another woman." My face was now surely red with a mix of humiliation and anger. Finally letting my flailing arms fall to my sides, I stopped to glare around the room. "Anyone dare to comment?!"

My mother gaped at me like I had grown ears on the top of my head. Luke looked away, ashamed or mortified, I could not tell. And everyone else was staring at me, with their mouth agape and mind churning at full speed, no doubt in an attempt to process my sudden outburst. Before I could say anymore, a loud ringtone filled the air, making Kirk flinch. It took me a second to recognize it as mine, and reach into my pocket for my phone. Glancing down, I saw Logan's name flash across the screen. Even after my adrenaline-filled discourse, my heart instantly twisted in its place at the sight. Just the thought of facing him after last night felt like a form of torture. My hands started shaking, and I looked up, wanting to rid of Logan's name from my view.

Stealing a look from my audience, I said, "Excuse me. That would be the baby's father calling." With that, I snuck out the room.

Before the door closed behind me, I heard Kirk say matter-of-factly, "It must be the pregnancy hormones."

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

"Hello?" I spoke into the receiver before I could stop myself.

"Happy birthday, Ace." Logan's sweet, cheery voice came through the phone.

His happy tone only made my throat close at the memory of him, holding me, and whispering "happy birthday" in my ear as we danced in the dim hotel lights. It was only a year ago when he flew from London just to celebrate my birthday. We had snuck out to a hotel in New York, ordered delivery and spent the night just snuggling and catching up.

Quickly shoving the memories away, I replied, "Thanks."

"What's wrong?" He was immediately concerned. "I know we said our goodbyes, but I couldn't not give you a call on your birthday."

"No, it's fine," I started, but stopped myself. My impending childbirth loomed over my thoughts, and I finally admitted to myself that I was far from fine. Nothing was how it was suppose to be. Swallowing my nerves, I braced myself to brooch the subject. "Actually, I needed to tell you something important. Not here, I mean, I'm going to London next week to talk to you about something."

"Okay..?" He sounded alarmed. "Is everything alright? Do you want me to fly there?"

"No." My voice was clipped and stern. "Just wait for me to get there next week, okay?" I added more lightly.

There was a pause on the other side of the line before Logan said, "Okay, I'll book that nice hotel we stayed at that year-"

"Logan, no. I'm making my own arrangements." I shut my eyes tightly, willing the images from that rendezvous away. I couldn't bear to think of them now.

"Ace, I can take care of it."

His insistence only made my insides twist. What would usually be a sweet display of his love now sounded condescending. Here I was carrying his baby, and yet I was being treated like some sort of escort that should be kept a secret from all his family and friends. A bitter taste sipped into my tongue, causing me to cringe.

I said, before catching myself, "No, Logan. I told you many times. I do not want, or need you to book a hotel for me. I'm not some fishnet stocking-wearing hooker who you can just book your time with at a hotel of your choice, and then leave to go back to your fiancé and perfect life."

My harsh words were met with silence. As the seconds ticked by, I started to regret my uncalled for insults. I knew more than anyone that Logan's life was far from perfect.

Holding the phone closer to me, I softly said, "I'm sorry… It's just hard…" A tremble reached my vocal chords, and I quickly said no more. Breath in. Breath out. I told myself in an attempt to stabilize my heartbeat. Again, I shut my eyes and rubbed my temples, shoving the vivid sounds I had heard last night to the back of my mind. I couldn't think of them now.

Logan sighed heavily. "Ace… " Hearing his hesitant voice, I wanted to plead at him to stop talking, in fear of what he may say next. I heard him ask, "Did you call yesterday?"

My heart stopped in that moment. All my defense were no longer of use. The simple "hello" I'd heard on the phone, and Logan's harrowing chuckle assaulted my ears, growing more distinct by the second, latching onto me. Nothing, _nothing_ could erase the memory away. A familiar sting built behind my eyes as I fought to control the impending tears.

"I'm sorry that she answered my phone…" His smooth voice sounded so lost, so helpless. "If I'd known it was you… You know I wouldn't do that to you…" The way he said the last sentence seemed to envelope some much meaning, like he knew how things between us had irreversibly changed.

"It doesn't matter," I somehow managed to sound dismissive, instead of shattered and weak. I quickly covered the receiver to let out a sniffle, and wipe fiercely at the moisture gripping my lashes. Then, I said, "I knew you had a fiancée. You've made your choice." My accusation came out all wrong.

"My choice?" he sounded genuinely stunned. "Explain to me how this was my choice?"

Biting my lips, I tried to retract my statement, "Never mind." I shook my head as if he could see.

"No, Ace. This is ridiculous that you're mad at _me_ for how things turned out." Great, he was now verging on angry.

" _Please_ , Logan. I don't want to talk about it," I begged him to stop, to let it go, before years of regret would be unleashed. I didn't want to deal with it on my birthday of all days.

But, he didn't back down. "I asked you to start over, to give us another chance. _You_ were the one who said you weren't sure."

"Please, _stop_." A dull throbbing pain started at the pit of my stomach, and threatened to engulf all my thoughts. I knew exactly what he was getting at, but I didn't want to hear it. It was a lot easier to make mistakes than to relive them.

"When you told me about Paul, that's when I knew," his voice was now tainted with apparent anger. He was practically seething. "I knew that no matter how much time had passed, how old we are, where you are in life, I would never be enough for you."

I almost hung up the phone just so I wouldn't hear the last few words. But I did hear them, letting them ring loudly in my ears. They elicited emotions I'd never heard from him - raw with a thinly veiled self-doubt. Logan had always been so confident. It hurt me to picture him anything but. I wanted to reach through the phone and hold him, but I knew we could never be that close again.

As I remained quiet, unable to speak, he continued, "It's funny how I was initially so scared to be with you, because I didn't know if I could commit. And yet it happened to be the exact opposite."

I stood there frozen, processing his every word. Hearing him say that felt worse than any heartache. I didn't want to believe that it was me who couldn't give him my all. I loved him. How could I not want him completely? I could feel my sanity slipping, and wanted to do anything to build the walls around my heart again. Looking for excuses, scapegoats, reasons, _anything_ , I could only blurt out, "If you didn't propose to me so abruptly, this wouldn't have happened."

I was met with a loud snicker that jabbed at every crevice in my heart. "Here we go again, it always comes down to that. I'm starting to think it wouldn't have made a difference at which age I proposed."

As if cornered by an enemy, I was desperate to find a way out. "You know what?" I channeled all my broken strength into an attempted anger. "How do I know that you wouldn't just end up succumbing to your father's demands, and marry a French Heiress no matter if we were engaged or not?!"

Logan drew out the next words methodically, as if barely containing himself. "If that's how lowly you think of me, then you were right to reject my proposals." Soon, all I heard was the even ringtone at the end of the line.

An invisible vice seemed to loosen around my chest, knowing I no longer had to fight and defend. Letting all the cells in my body relax, I squeezed my eyes shut as tightly as possible, as if it could erase the stinging pain running through my blood. Despite my better judgement, I wanted to call him back, to apologize, to say anything to make him see that I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to lose him. Instead, I leaned my head against the wall, and listened to the noise coming from my birthday party next door. Was this how Logan and I's conversation had to go? Was this the end? Perhaps, arguing over details that happened years ago was a lot easier to face than the present. With those words I'd said, I finally unleashed my fears. I was cowardly and untrusting - all traits I was never raised to be. Yet, they were undeniable. When Logan proposed to me ten years ago, I hid behind the mask of wanting independence, when, truthfully, part of me wondered if we could make a marriage last. Now, I was still terrified at the thought that when I tell him about the baby, he would break off his engagement to be with me. I would then _have to_ face the possibility of a failed relationship with him once again. Only this time, the consequences would be a lot direr. I thought of how I was raised single-handedly by my mom. I thought of whether my dad regretted not being more involved. Finally, I thought of my mom and dad's divorce. They had finally gotten married after so many years of figuring things out. Yet, it proved that some things should be left alone. Untouched.

A steady creak came from the door, causing me to open my eyes, in time to see someone step into the room. Swiping a strand of dark hair away from his eyes, the newly-arrived guest casually waved at me.

Taking a second to bring myself back to reality, I slowly deciphered his familiar face. "Jess!" I exclaimed, just as he threw a crooked smile my way.

Jess rushed over to bring me into a big, bear hug. It was comforting to feel the warmth of someone close to me, who I didn't manage to stun, or anger today.

His familiar cologne embraced me as he spoke into my hair. "Happy birthday, Ror."

I leaned my head back and caught his warm eyes. "It's so nice to see you." A small smile found its way across my lips. I didn't think I could genuinely smile today, yet my body relaxed at the sight of Jess, as if he made things better. Even if it was just slightly.

"You too." He grinned in a way that made me feel safe. Like I was finally not alone.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and I would love to hear your thoughts!**

It was so great to hear your thoughts about the revival, and know that I'm not alone! I have this story of how I envision rory and Logan's life post-revival already laid out, and cant wait to write it and share it with you. Please let me know what you think so far :) I also think it will be a roller-coaster ride before Rory and Logan can figure things out. So stay tuned!


	3. Chapter 3: Our bubble

❤ Chapter Three ❤

Sometimes, I wished we lived in infinite dimensions in time - like those confusing Sci-fi movies, where space and time was a continuum, and multiple versions of you lived in multiple points in time all at once. When life didn't pan out the way you wanted it to, you could go back to a defining moment, and change it accordingly. Of course, as you grow from a child whose only worries were mean boys and nosy parents, into a complicated adult who is constantly pressured into appearing put-together and wise, mistakes and regrets inevitably pile up. There would be too many moments to go back to - to change, to manipulate, to erase. In the end, all I wished was to blow a single, happy childhood memory into an iridescent bubble, so that I could live in it forever - entrapped by the kaleidoscope around me, forever not knowing the kind of hurt life could bring.

As Jess and I sat in silence on the floor, with our backs leaning against the cold wall, it was all I could think of. I wondered if there were people who experienced life and remained an optimist, as if forever trapped in that bubble, and suddenly wished my unborn child would be one of them. I wished for the ability to see into his or her future, so I could warn my child of any twists and turns that would bring them down. In that moment, I felt like a mother, picturing the ball of cells growing in my uterus, imagining it shift and mold into a tiny fetus - complete with a head, spine and heartbeat. _My_ tiny fetus. Protectively, I put a hand on my belly, suddenly remorseful for the stress I had put my baby through. Swallowing my guilt, I turned my head against the wall to face Jess. He was watching me, with a slight crease marring his forehead and his dark eyes so solid that they bored into mine like black holes.

After examining him for a few more seconds, I finally spoke. "I'm pregnant."

A split instance of shock flashed across his face, before he composed himself. "Wow," was all he could manage.

His response elicited a small chuckle from my lips. "That was my exact same reaction when I found out."

Jess' stunned face didn't falter. "Who's the father?" He sounded scared to find out.

I sighed, feeling a weight sink in. If I told him now, it would somehow make it more real. More real than it had felt for the past few weeks. Remembering my baby's father, a pair of liquid caramel eyes floated into my view, gripping me in their trance. Shaking my head a little to rid of the image, I simply stated, "Logan."

Jess nodded as comprehension set into his eyes. He looked down at my stomach, and then at my hand, probably noticing the lack of a ring.

I felt ashamed right then, and quickly added, "I haven't told him yet."

Jess continued to nod, like it was a bodily reflex. Finally, he asked, "Are you going to?"

I thought about his question. Funny, because it wasn't actually something I had asked myself. I thought it was obvious to tell the father of your unborn child that his DNA is now embedded in what would be a new human being.

"Of course!" I answered a bit too loudly, startling Jess as a result. "I'm not some monster who would keep a man from the knowledge that he has an offspring somewhere." I'll admit my tone was a tad defensive.

"Woah, calm down, Ror," He finally cracked a smile. "Just checking. You never know what to ask pregnant women in these situations without them freaking out at you," He teased, and touched my hand in the smallest gesture. Looking into my eyes, he said, "You know I'm here for you, right?"

Hearing his sincere words, it was more than I could have asked for. Gulping a solid ball of emotions down my throat, I could only nod. He had always been a polarizing force. He came into my high school life just when I thought I was content and fulfilled with Dean. Yet, he managed to crash into my routines, forcing me to open my eyes and see previously unknown possibilities. Now, I was the exact opposite, lost and broken, and he was an ironic source of comfort. As if returning that sense of security he had ripped away from me all those years ago, I somehow felt safe with him.

I bit my lips, and put a myriad of cooped up emotions into my next two words. "Thanks, Jess"

He gave me his signature crooked smile that could be mistaken for a smirk. "How you feeling?" He asked gently.

Before I stopped to think, an answer rolled off my tongue. "Alone."

He flinched slightly as if my response inflicted pain. He reached out his hand, and hovered it over my arm for a short second, before touching it softly, gentling rubbing some warmth into my limp body.

With his hand still on me, he said, "I walked into that party earlier, and all I got were worried looks, people asking me to go find and comfort you. They all care about you… so much." He hesitated before continuing, "You have your mom, Luke, the whole town here for you, Rory. You have me."

"Wow." It was now my turn to be speechless. "I've never heard you say so many sentimental, mushy words in one breath." I couldn't help but chuckle. It was so unlike Jess to be so serious.

Effervescent bubbles formed in my chest as his words stuck in my head. He was right. I had him. Even when we didn't talk for months or had arguments about silly things, he and I would always get back to the comfortable friendship we've had for years. After feeling so lost for the past few days, I finally felt like there was something guarding me, and that I didn't have to do all of it alone. Jess' support was different than that of my mom's. I mean, my mom was my mom. She had the obligation to say comforting words, and be there for me, even though I know she loved me more than anything in the world, and me vice versa. But, knowing that someone who I was not genetically associated with _choose_ to be there for me was different. Perhaps I had been so scared of how Logan would take the news, fearing his choice, that any form of approval meant the world to me.

Jess leaned toward me, while lifting one side of his body off the floor to retrieve a book from his back jean pocket. Without an explanation, he handed the book to me. I took it, running my palm along the cover. It was the new book he had been working on, now presented to me in its completeness.

"It's not much, but it's special. I wanted you to have it," He explained while nodding at the book in my hands.

"I love it."

I flipped open the brand new pages, and examined the white paper littered with black characters. Remembering how Jess had transformed from a troubled teenager into a successful writer gave me the hopeful feeling that life could be full of pleasant surprises. I was brought back to my bubble of happy memories, thinking of when he had first told me about being a published author. I watched Jess's intent face as he examined the book in my hands. Feeling a smile form on my lips, I scooted closer to him and leaned my head on his shoulder. He leaned the side of his face against my head, allowing us to fall into a comfortable silence. With Jess' book placed preciously on my lap, I closed my eyes and felt a sense of serenity pulse through me for the first time in days. No matter what happens, my kid would grow up in a world where Jess Mariano was a writer. _That_ was something wonderful.

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

My mom and I had walked home in silence. I was still not in the mood to talk after that embarrassing outburst back at the party. She would crack jokes once in a while, and I would give an empty chuckle in response. Even her comedic genius couldn't lift my humiliation from every ounce of my body. Now, lying on my bed, I tried to close my eyes and get some rest. My back was aching, and my eyelids felt heavy. Perhaps, I was finally showing signs of pregnancy. Just as I was about to drift into sleep, a gentle knock on the door brought me back to reality.

"Come in," I whispered, having no strength left after the long day.

"Hey, kiddo."

My mom stood by the door for a bit, before tentatively coming closer. When she didn't hear any protests, she lifted my covers and crawled into bed with me. At the sense of her warm body, I turned to her and snuggled into her arms like I was eight years old again. Sighing, and feeling an enormous cloud lift, I closed my eyes and breathed in my mom's familiar scent.

My mom ran her hand through my hair, massaging my scalp. "Where were you after you disappeared from your one-man show?" She asked with a hint of humor.

"With Jess," I told her.

"Ah, of course," she said without missing a beat. "Luke's nephew to the rescue, huh?"

"I'm not a princess who needs rescuing," I objected.

"Of course not, but any woman can appreciate a knight in shining armor every once in a while."

I smirked. "True, there's no harm in that."

"He's a good kid," she stated it simply.

My smirk grew bigger. "I don't remember you thinking that back in the days."

"Back in the days, he wore a leather jacket and a big ass attitude. He was just one motorcycle away from being the kind of boy who could sweep you off your feet all the way to Mexico, and impregnate you in a dingy motel room," She argued in the same tone she would use when we argued over what to get for take-out.

"Hah hah, well, almost twenty years later, I've been impregnated by an engaged man in a fancy hotel room instead." I retorted with acerbic notes dripping from my voice.

"Stop saying 'engaged' like it's a dirty word," She scolded. "He's only forced into the engagement. I'm sure he will end it once you tell him the news. As much as I hate to admit it, he cares about you, you know." Her last sentence was soft.

Feeling the ounce of truth in my mother's wise words, I whispered, "I know…"

I couldn't tell her my fears, because they didn't even make sense to me. I feared that Logan would leave me to crumble alone under the weight of this pregnancy and the impending responsibilities of motherhood. But, I also feared that he would ditch his fiancée and planned life in order to be with me and our baby. That kind of pressure on me to make sure that his choice would be the right one, that he would be happy, and that just our little family would be enough for him, in some ways felt even deadlier than the burden of raising a child alone.

"A package from Logan came for you today." My mom's voice boomed into my thoughts. "I'll go grab it."

In a matter of seconds, she was back with a large box in her arms. She set the box on my bed, and turned to leave.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, almost wishing she wouldn't go. I needed her, just like how I needed her when I was young.

When I was alone in the room, with the door closed, I examined the box wrapped in a pretty silver. Feeling the gritty texture against my palm, I imagined what it could be. Logan's gifts were always of two things, either extremely thoughtful, or extremely expensive. I secretly wished for it to be the former. Peeling off the wrapper and opening the box, I took out a Styrofoam wrapped package and carried it onto my desk. It was impressive in size, filling up most of the surface. Finally taking off the Styrofoam, I was stunned at the reveal. I examined every corner of the delicate miniature model house standing in front of me. Minuscule details of the roof tiles, and leaves on the tree in the make-believe yard caught my eyes. It was the most beautiful, intricate piece of art I had ever seen. It was something you saw in store windows, way too decadent to purchase and own. The light from my lamp reflected off the striking treads of rain-glistened grass on the fake front lawn and polished glass windows in the front of the house. Every part of the house felt magical and real at the same time. I leaned over to examine the little backyard, and heard a gasp escape my mouth. In the corner of the yard stood a little tree, with its luscious green leaves sticking out in all directions. From the branches hung tiny little fruits - avocados. It was an avocado tree, just like the one Logan had said was in the house he had waiting for me in California when he first proposed. The memory rushed to me like a train without brakes. It hit me with full force, causing my head to swing. Something caught in my throat as I stared at the tiny tree in front of me, almost seeing it come to life.

 _This_ was the house Logan and I could have had. My gaze was then caught by a gorgeous, shimmering feature beside the front lawn. Sitting with its diamond encrusted wheels and ruby donned seats was a horse-drawn carriage. It was exactly as I remembered, as I closed my eyes and pictured the carriage waiting for me after Logan's proposal. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes, carefully making its way past my lashes and down my cheek. Not wanting to disturb this precious moment, I stood there motionlessly, and let the tear fall onto the miniature front lawn, wetting the grass like rain. The house felt like a treasure of a lost chance - a time capsule that could bring Logan and I back to that day for a do-over. It captured a different dimension in time, as memories from the night of Logan's proposal, to our reunion, to our goodbye in New Hampshire meshed into one string of events. They collided into one another, until the concept of time vanished. The images twirled all around me, as if I could simply reach out and pluck a memory to relive it – rewrite it.

Noticing a little red card protrude from the tiny front door of the house, I picked it up gently, afraid to break the delicate structure. With abated breath, I read the note.

 _ **Happy Birthday, Ace.**_

 _ **Even if things didn't go as planned for us, this will always be the way I picture my life with you. I hope it brings you joy to know that you have someone who wouldn't hesitate twice to build this life with you, as long as you said the words.**_

 _ **Love,**_

 _ **Logan**_

Feeling my heart flutter and break all at once at his sweet, sweet words, I watched the house in front of me, in that instant, like it had come to life. I could see through the windows so clearly. I saw the little kitchen with mint-colored wallpaper, and dark wood counters. There was a small round table by the floor length window that overlooked the backyard. Like a movie, I saw Logan and I making breakfast by the bar in that tiny house, him washing the vegetables, while I beat the eggs for our omelet. Logan seemed to say something to cause my head to tilt back and a laugh to erupt from my lips. My carefree grin was only obscured when he leaned over to place a kiss on my lips. I watched as our bodies entwined and I placed the bowl of eggs on the counter, and wrapped my arms around his. Then, a little girl ran into the kitchen, right into us, embracing our legs in a tight group hug. I watched the family gathering with such love in my chest. I didn't think I could be happier, yet it was sad tears that stung my eyes. Fiercely, I wiped at my face as sobs escaped my throat. Despite my tears, I looked on at the little movie playing in the miniature house in front of me. I couldn't ripe my gaze away. I watched myself encircled by my family, wearing an expression so pure, like nothing had ever hurt us. Like we were untouchable in our own little bubble.

Like we had no regrets.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please leave a feedback!**

What did you think of this emotion-filled chapter? Do you feel for Rory, and Logan? And of course, what did you think of Logan's gift...?


	4. Chapter 4: By the beach

❤ Chapter Four ❤

"I look like a whale." I pouted into the narrow, floor-length mirror in front of me.

From my peripheral, I saw my mom roll her eyes. She retorted, "If by whale, you mean, you look _whale-y_ nice, then yeah, you're right." She let out a chuckle as she sat down on my bed.

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at the amusement in her voice. My eye roll suddenly turned into a frown as I spun to my side to examine the navy dress I was wearing, noticing that it felt a bit too tight around my waist. "I can't wear this," I protested when I saw the bulge where my stomach was. "Grandma will _definitely_ think I'm pregnant."

"I think that's cause, last I heard, you _are_ pregnant." My mom continued to joke in that light tone, like my issues weren't catastrophic.

I groaned in response, and started raiding my closet for a more suitable outfit, preferably one that covered my now slightly larger breasts, bumpier stomach, and wider hips. As if visiting my grandmother for an entire weekend wasn't enough of a stress, now I had to worry about how she might react if she found out about my situation. After how my grandma had treated my mom when she was pregnant at sixteen, I did not want to find out what kind of treatment I would get. Somehow, I was sure that being knocked up by an engaged man who also happened to be my ex-boyfriend was not going to be well-received. Plus, just a week ago on my thirty-third birthday, I had not been showing many signs of pregnancy. Yet, here I was now with a minor, but definitely noticeable bump. Just then, my stomach made a loud grumble as if to apologize.

I looked over my shoulder at my mom, and asked, "Did Luke leave any leftovers in the fridge? I'm starving."

"Leftovers?!" She exclaimed with mock repulsion. "What kind of mother would I be to let my starving, pregnant daughter eat only leftovers? You need a comforting, homemade breakfast that can sustain you for the six hour trip in front of us. Something a _mother_ , like myself, cooks."

I chuckled at her ridiculous suggestion. "Have you been watching 'MasterChef' again?" I feigned a look of disapproval. We both knew that if it came down to leftovers or her cooking, the former would be the far safer choice for a pregnant lady, or any human for that matter.

"No… Yes… Maybe." My mom replied with a devious grin.

"Well," I said while shooting her a stern look. "Since the last time you attempted at making a Greek feast ended with the fire alarm blaring in the middle of the night, and Kirk running into our kitchen with a fire extinguisher, wearing only boxers and a Fireman helmet, I don't think it's wise to cook for _at least_ another month."

My mother seemed to ponder my point, before stating, "I'll call Luke to bring over some food."

"Wise choice." I smirked.

She went off to hunt for the phone that was frequently hidden under some items of clothing or couch cushions. When I was alone in my childhood room, I shrugged out of my navy dress and slipped on a black one that had a lacey A-line skirt. Surely, the poufy material will cover my bump.

"Aha," I exclaimed at the mirror, satisfied with the result. "I've found the one!" I called to my mom.

She came back into the room with the phone in her hand. "Luke's on his way." She looked me up and down, and whistled. "Watch out Nantucket, there's a sexy, pregnant vixen in town."

"The point of this dress is to _not_ look pregnant." I couldn't help but smile.

"Honey, your point is well made." My mom put a reassuring arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a hug. "You don't look pregnant, trust me. Grandma will be too distracted by some bone she has to pick with me, to even begin to think her perfect Rory may be pregnant anyway."

"True, she'll probably be on your case about the renovations at the inn."

"There you go." My mom made a grimace, just as Luke's voice came from the kitchen.

"Food's here!"

"Hurray!" I wasted no time skipping into the kitchen. Food was a huge deal to a pregnant Gilmore girl.

"I didn't know if you wanted breakfast or lunch, so I brought some of each. Omelette, waffles, burgers, fries…" Luke said as he rummaged through the paper bags on the dining table. "…and, of course, coffee." He placed a burger and cup of coffee on the table and slid them toward me as I sat down.

The salty, fatty smell of the burger, combined with what seemed like an acidic aroma from the coffee drifted into my nostril and hit my stomach in an unfortunate way, instantly twisting it into knots. I held onto my stomach as a wave of nausea surfaced.

"Oh god," I let out a groan, before running off to the bathroom to throw up what must be remaining of last night's dinner.

I heard my mom exclaim through the bathroom door, "Oh my god! Is it the meat?!"

"I don't know," I spitted out, kneeling over the toilet bowl.

"Or the coffee?!"

"Maybe both?! The scent… it's just all very unpleasant." I felt a bit oozy as I flushed the toilet and cleaned myself up.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I was met with my mom and Luke's worried faces.

"I- I- can make you something else." Luke said urgently, already heading to the fridge. He looked over his shoulder and called, "What would you like? Grilled cheese? Hot dogs? Donuts?"

"It's okay, Luke. I don't feel hungry anymore…" I tried to sound reassuring. I knew he was trying his hardest to help with my appetite as he was listing my favorite foods that he normally definitely did not approve of.

"Are you sure, honey? Not even a pop tart?" My mom added, looking concerned.

Not even the sweet jelly filling and buttery pastry in pop tarts sat well with my taste buds at that moment. I realized that all I craved was something un-artificial. Before I could comprehend my sudden desire, I blurted out, "I think I want some apples."

"Apples?" My mom stared at me. "You really _are_ my child."

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

 _Ding dong._

We rang the doorbell and waited outside my grandma's cottage. The cottage was lovely with its fall foliage surrounding the front door made of a dark oak wood. The door was ornate with a delicate wreath of acorns and maple leaves, while little stone carved birds perched on the nearby window sills. This enchanting place was exactly what my grandma needed to regain her life after my grandfather's death. Although it still hurt to think of his passing, I was glad that grandma had the courage to pack up her belongings, and start a new life here in Nantucket. Amidst my thoughts, the door in front of us swung open, and we were greeted by Emily Gilmore's stressed frown, before a puff of smoke rushed out from behind her, right into our faces.

My mom and I exchanged a puzzled look as I waved the smoke away with a hand, and choked out, "Hi Grandma."

"Come on in, girls." Grandma's voice was clipped, like she was full of stress from a long day's work. It was a huge contrast to the tranquil surrounding of the cottage.

We were quickly ushered into the quaint dining room that was tastefully decorated with oak wood furniture, and golden framed photographs. The only thing out of place was the light trail of smoke drifting into the room, seeming to originate from the kitchen. Taking a sniff, I noticed it smelled like burnt food. _Really_ burnt food.

"Mom, what's going on in here?" My mom wave her hand around, and asked Grandma, "Don't you think it's a little late for you to take up smoking as a part of a mid-life crisis?"

"Lorelai, for your information, this is the smell of your dinner." Grandma replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, does the maid often burn your meals this badly? Cause if so, this time, you might actually have a good reason to fire her."

My grandma stared at my mom like it was the rudest thing she had ever heard. Finally, she spoke, "There's no maid today. _I'm_ cooking."

"What?!" My mom and I exclaimed in unison. I was pretty sure that, in her many decades of existence, Grandma had never stepped within inches of an oven or stove.

"I'm sorry that's surprising to you, but there isn't much for a widow to do these days." Grandma shrugged like it was no big deal. "So I've started watching some of those trashy shows they play on TV. Last week, I stumbled upon this cooking show with a ridiculously unpleasant host. After watching it for a bit, I found it quite inspiring. It's called 'MasterChef'. Have you two heard of it?" Grandma looked at us eagerly, somehow managing a straight face.

I think I spoke for both my mom and I when I say that we had never been so stunned. After a few seconds of absolute silence, I finally said, "Um, yeah, that's actually Mom's current obsession."

My mom gaped at me like I had revealed a big secret. She leaned into my ear and hissed softly, "Thanks for telling her. Now I like the same show as my _mother_."

Grandma looked from my mom to me and back with an intrigued smile. She turned to my mom and said, "See, Lorelai, you have more in common with me than you think." Then she stalked into the kitchen, declaring, "Sit at the table, girls. I'll bring out your food."

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

After we spent the first ten minutes of dinner assessing the piece of burnt quiche on our plates, cooked by the very Emily Gilmore, we were still in disbelief. The so-called pie crust was the thickness of pizza dough, and hard as a brick. Tiny bits of clumpy egg mixture were floating inside the pie crust. Somehow, I had a feeling that Grandma was not supposed to add water to the egg filling. After a long struggle to cut through the crust with my butter knife, I put a piece of the blackened quiche into my mouth, and started to chew. I imagined this was what it would feel like if I was to chew dry pasta. While I was attempting to not break a tooth, my mom and Grandma were inevitably bickering.

"Since your father is providing the funds for the renovation and he _is_ my husband, I have the legal right to check up on how the renovation is coming along. Is one lunch and a tour of the inn when I visit Hartford too much to ask for?" Grandma went on.

My mom sighed exasperatedly. "Mom, why do you care? It's _my_ inn. Our deal was that I visit you, and here I am. Even though I said we can come during Thanksgiving, but, _no_ , you practically forced us to come this weekend before my honeymoon."

"Oh I'm _sorry_ that your widowed mother is such a burden to you." Judging from Grandma's increasingly unyielding tone, she was only getting started. "I get it. You don't have room for me in your life. My not even getting invited to witness your wedding was a tell-tale sign."

"What are you talking about?! You were at my wedding, Mom!" My mom put down her utensils loudly on the table and scoffed. "If you've had severe amnesia since then, I'll remind you that you were there, sitting in the front row. You talked to Luke. I hugged you. Then we had Sookie's famous salmon at the reception."

"Please, Lorelai. You know that means nothing when you had already gotten legally married the day before." Grandma glared at my mom.

"How do you know that?" I watched as my mom's face paled, and then reddened with frustration. "Yes, Luke and I eloped. But that's what _we_ decided. It's what _we_ wanted. It was an elopement. You don't send out impromptu, last-minute invitations for an elopement. There wouldn't even have been _time_ for you get to Stars Hollow, because it was a spur-of-the-moment, impulsive thought. That's the textbook definition of eloping."

"It's typical Lorelai. Always so selfish. Only thinking of yourself." Grandma dismissed my mom's rant with the wave of a hand. "You and Luke have been together for nine years, your father left him a generous sum, and I was the one to encourage you to get married at our therapy sessions, for God's sake. Yet, I don't even get a _phone call_ when you finally do legally marry."

"Oh, stop it, Mom." My mom's voice rose several decibels. "Stop acting like you care _so_ much about Luke and I. You were never even supportive of our relationship!" By this point, I had stopped attempting to eat and was watching my mother as her hands gestured and flailed in the air. She went on, her voice hard, "You tried to sabotage us. You hated the fact that I didn't end up with a Christopher, and instead was living with a 'lowly diner owner'. My 'roommate' as you called it."

Grandma leaned into the table, and retorted, "You never even gave Richard and I the chance to get to know him! You never brought him to dinner. You hid him from us like he was an embarrassing secret."

"That's enough, Mom!" My mom stood up abruptly, sending the plates on the table cluttering in distraught. She threw her napkin on the table and said, "You don't get to talk about my relationship like that. Stop making me sound like a petulant child, like I'm so inferior to you, like I'm this horrible person who can't do _anything_ up to your standard." Her face was now flashing shades of red as she continued with a frantic voice, "In case you haven't noticed, I was able to raise a daughter all by myself just fine!" I gulped down the last bits of food in my mouth as my mom jabbed her palm at me. "She was valedictorian. She went to Yale! She has landed great jobs since! And she even managed to not get pregnant 'til she's thirty-two!"

"Mom!" A loud protest flew out of my mouth as I stared at her dumbfounded at what she had just said.

"What?" Grandma's puzzled voice filled the room.

I could feel Grandma's glare on the side of my face, but my sight never left my mom. Her eyes widened with panic, and her mouth was slightly ajar. She mouthed the words "I'm sorry", but it was too late. Grandma was on my case.

"You're pregnant?" My grandma's tone was that of utter disbelief, even more so than when my mom and I found out that she watches "MasterChef".

"I- I- Yes," I stuttered, refusing to look her in the eyes, and opted to stare at my food.

"Who's the father?" The inevitable question came, leaving cold trails through my bloodstream. Logan's face and the miniature house with its avocado tree flashed across my mind, sending a sickening lump down my throat.

Grandma turned to my mom and asked sternly, "Who's the father, Lorelai?"

When she was met with further silence, she started, "Whoever it is, you have to get married as soon as possible. I will not have my first great grandchild be a bastard!"

"Grandma-" I started to object.

"I knew that vagabond existence of yours was leading to no good. Do you even know who the father is?"

I threw a blank stare her way, afraid that she could see it in my eyes that Logan was the father. If so, she would be planning our wedding venue and picking out china patterns in a matter of minutes. With her fall-out with the Hartford society after Grandpa's passing, she might not even know that it was much more complicated than that – that there was a French Heiress in the picture. She didn't know that he had moved on, so much so that he had deleted my number, and Odette had answered my call instead. Yet, his birthday gift could mean something entirely different. Part of me was scared to find out.

"Oh my god…" My grandma's face paled to that of a ghost. "Please tell me the father is not some bum you picked off the streets while you were prancing from city to city, homeless. He could be a serial killer, a drug addict, a pimp for all we know!"

Horrified at those prospects, I interjected, "Grandma, calm down!" Erratic breaths left my lungs as my brain started feeling extremely squished, like a heavy pressure was being applied to my temples and I couldn't think. Seeing my grandma's panic-stricken face, as if already envisioning her precious granddaughter being married off to a pimp, I could only blurt out, "It's Logan."

The creases on my grandma's face immediately disappeared as she whispered, "Huntzberger?"

I could only nod, while stealing a glance at my mom. Seeing her concerned look allowed the tense muscles in my body to gradually relax.

"Yeah, you like Logan." I gestured to my grandma, trying to ease her nerves. "Last I checked, he hasn't gotten into the prostitution business, so we're all good on the pimp front." I gave an empty chuckle that was met with Grandma's blank stare. If she didn't know about Logan's relationship status just yet, I sure won't be the one to tell her.

"Well, I have to call the Huntzbergers right away." My grandma straightened herself, looking like she was getting right down to business. She went on with a glimmer in her eyes, "It's been a while, but if we're going to be in-laws, now is the time to re-connect. It'll be a challenge getting a wedding planned before you start to show, but it's doable. We can get that gorgeous venue by the beach. I know how you youngsters these days like getting married by the beach."

"Um… actually, Grandma," I tried to stop her before she started picking out baby names. "I haven't told him yet, so I would really appreciate it if you didn't call up the whole DAR. Don't tell anyone, _please_."

"Aren't you going to tell him?" She cocked her head to a side. "He has a right to know."

"Oh, I _will_ tell him," I quickly replied. "I just want to tell him in person. He should hear it from me."

"Right, that's reasonable," She said to my relief. "Hurry though, I can't guarantee that beach venue even with my connections."

Her tone was hard to read, making me anxious. I couldn't be sure that she was going to keep quiet about this news. Cold sweat formed down my back at the thought of Logan's parents, or even Logan, finding out the news from my grandma. At that instant, I acted like a coward and could only give my grandma a small, tight smile, hoping she would drop the topic. Thankfully, my mom remained quiet, and didn't cause further complications. I pretended to focus on eating my now cold quiche. Unfortunately for my nerves, I couldn't help but picture walking down the aisle in the cool, white sand toward the ocean waves, where Logan stood a few steps away, waiting for me with a carefree grin. If only things were as simple as my grandma made it out to be.

❤ Jump Then Fall ❤

"Ughh." My mom shuddered as soon as she closed the guest room door. Together, we flopped down on the immaculately made bed, letting our hair down and nerves loose. "That was probably the most disgusting food I've ever tasted."

"Cooking genes definitely do not run in the Gilmore blood," I agreed with a smirk, feeling indefinitely relieved to be out of my grandma's line of sight for the night.

"I'm sorry about spilling the beans." My mom nudged me in the shoulder, sounding remorseful.

"It's fine," I sighed and shut my eyes, while the softness of the bed settled in, allowing exhaustion to take over my body. "I had to tell her sooner or later." As I summoned the bits of energy left in me to talk, my muscles ached like they hadn't gotten nourishment in ages. My stomach caved in, letting out a groan. Nevertheless, the thought of meat created repulsive waves down my esophagus. I realized that my body desired real food, filled with the sort of nutrients and vitamins that it had been deprived of for years. With that, I turned my head against the soft bedding toward my mom, and asked, "I'm still starving. Do you think there'll be a salad or something in the kitchen?"

She gasped at me and narrowed her eyes, before replying with mock disgust. "You are no longer my daughter."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please leave a feedback!**

What do you guys think about Emily finding out about Rory's pregnancy? What do you think she will do? Will she stir up drama by telling people about the news? You will soon find out :)

On a side note, I'm still very annoyed about how the ending is suppose to mean that Jess is Rory's Luke, and Logan is Christopher. What Rory and Logan had is totally different from what's between her mom and dad! I feel like the revival is trying to just erase the fact that Rory and Logan had a three year relationship. I feel like it's worse than just having her end up with Jess even though Logan was a great contender/person. Nope, instead the revival is made to feel like Logan is a terrible person, who strings Rory along while being engaged, and therefore Rory should be with Jess. :( Thoughts?

Thanks everyone for the reviews and follows/likes! You really encourage me to keep writing this story to share for you all :)

Edit: Thanks so much to the reviewers who pointed out that Nantucket is far away lol. I've changed the details accordingly. I admit I didn't watch the full revival in detail cause I was too mad at the plot. So if you spot any incongruities, please let me know! Thanks :D


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